


Family men

by Evil_Keshi



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Family Feels, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Tormund's Daughters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 23:44:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19283638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Keshi/pseuds/Evil_Keshi
Summary: Dating while having two young girls may seem like an impossible deal at times but fortunately, Tormund makes it work.(Also, Jon is short but won't admit it and the girls are full of ideas.)





	Family men

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This oneshot was supposed to be something really short (just like Jon, oops) about the boys attending a concert and being cute together. Somehow, it turned into something just a bit longer but still cute. I hope you'll enjoy your reading ;)

  


_I'm so sorry_ is the first thing Tormund says when they enter the concert hall, already packed and filled with sounds of guitars and a voice that makes Jon think of golden wheat fields undulating under a soft summer breeze. He's dying to get closer to the stage because he doesn't see much from the back but the crowd doesn't move, except for jumping up and down, and they're stuck at the far end of the hall.

"Please stop apologising," Jon pleads, forced to yell in his boyfriend's ear so he can be heard above the music and the public singing along with Marcus Mumford, "We're here now, it doesn't matter that we're late!"

Tormund huffs but nods, wrapping one arm around Jon's shoulders to pull him closer and kiss his temple, his beard tickling his cheek. He knows that technically, it's not his fault they arrived late but Mumford and Sons are Jon's favourite band and he feels bad that they missed the first twenty minutes or so. He remembers his excitement and the tiny stars twinkling in Jon's eyes when he offered him the tickets on their first Valentine's Day together, a few months ago, and he's so, so sorry they didn't manage to arrive on time.

"Blame the babysitter," Jon adds when he realises that Tormund is still sulking on his behalf as well as mentally punching his own face, "not yourself."

After all, Tormund couldn't foresee that the babysitter would decide to cancel on them at the very last second, without giving neither a proper excuse nor apology and leaving them with two little girls starting to tear up at the thought that they would be left alone for the night, so their dad could go and have fun with his boyfriend.

Jon can still feel the way his heart broke in two at the distress in Tasha's eyes while her little sister held onto her hand and sniffled... and he was probably just as scared as they were, although for different reasons. The girls had finally warmed up to him, two months after Tormund introduced him for the first time and explained to them who he was and what he meant to him, so Jon didn't want the girls to think that he was stealing their dad and pushing them away like the evil stepmothers in their fairytale books.

"We won't leave you alone," he'd told them with a reassuring smile, carefully running his hand through Elanor's soft hair. "We'll stay with you."

"But..." the little girl protested, "You really like the mum fort and suns..."

"I do," Jon agreed easily, chuckling as she butchered the name of the band, "but I like you and your sister more, so..."

He'd gotten tight hugs for that, both from the girls and Tormund, who'd flashed him a smile so soft and loving that Jon nearly melted on the spot. His boyfriend looked amazed, as if he'd known all along but only really understood now that Jon would rather miss the concert he'd been talking about nonstop for the past week as his excitement grew, than lose his girls' affection. Beyond that, it meant that he was in for the long run, no matter their eight-year age difference and the fact that Tormund came with two sweet but very young kids he was raising by himself and dedicated most of his free time to.

"You should go with daddy," Elanor said then, a pout on her lips. "I don't want you to be sad."

"I won't be s..."

"We could call Ygritte!" Tasha exclaimed before he could finish, her face lighting up in a second, convinced that she had found the solution to the babysitter issue, "Please, please, daddy, she'll come here and you two can leave!"

So that is how Jon ended up calling their friend who, by chance, had a free evening and was delighted at the prospect of spending it babysitting Tormund's girls - mostly, Jon suspected she was looking forward to telling them preferably embarrassing stories about their father. They waited for her with Tasha and Elanor, who made her dad promise he would kiss her goodnight once he came back home, and then Ygritte nearly kicked them out of the house so she and the children could get started on their _girls-only_ evening.

In the end, Tormund is damn glad he listened to his oldest daughter: Jon's skin is glowing under the changing lights of the concert hall and the unabashed happiness on his face as he sings and sways slowly to the music is a sight Tormund is going to cherish in his heart for a long, long time. Giving in, he closes his arms around Jon's waist, steps closer so his chest is pressed against the younger man's back and he rocks with him, following Jon's rhythm, smiling in his dark curls when he covers one of Tormund's hands with his own and entwines their fingers.

He loves these moments, when they're surrounded by people and yet nothing but them seems to matter. He's experienced that strange feeling a few times in his life, on the day he married his late wife, years ago, and then when the doctors placed Tasha in his arms for the first time. He cried that day, harder than he'd ever done before, and he thought he would be ready for Elanor's arrival in the world. He wasn't. Tasha was three already at the time and he'd nearly forgotten how bizarre but blissful a sensation it was to hold such a tiny and fragile human being, all while protectiveness surged inside him.

Jon is not fragile, though Tormund would argue on tiny, and he certainly doesn't need protection like his baby girls did - and still do, fight him. The feeling is there nonetheless, pure love and admiration for this man, and while Tasha and Elanor will grow up and leave the nest one day (but the later the better!), Tormund wants to keep Jon by his side forever so they can build the upcoming years of their lives together.

Right now however, Jon is shifting in his arms, squirming, until Tormund realises that he's rising on his tippy toes then comes back down, only to do it all over again, trying to see what is happening on the other side of the singing crowd.

"I can't see a thing," Jon grumbles, "People are too tall."

"Or you're just too short," Tormund teases him with a snort, which earns him an elbow to the ribs, "Ouch!"

"Tall people," Jon repeats firmly.

"Yes, of course, love," he agrees with a complaisant nod, fighting a smile that Jon must see anyway.

"Don't make fun of me!" he exclaims, laughing himself when Tormund places one hand on his chest and feigns to take offence.

"Me? I wouldn't dare!" he says, before he takes Jon's hand, "Come on."

Tormund haltingly drags him a bit further to the side, trying not to crush any toes under his feet, until he stops behind teenagers who are shorter - about Jon's height really, although he won't say that aloud - and should enable his boyfriend to see the band better. Of course a concert mostly requires ears, not eyes, but the Mumford and Sons play some odd instruments that are nice to look at and he wants Jon to live the best possible experience.

So when a man, who must be one of the teenage girls' boyfriend as well as a damn basketball player, steps out of nowhere and suddenly gets in Jon's sightline, of course Jon's shoulders slump. Tormund doesn't need much more to react.

"What are you doing?!" Jon yelps when Tormund crouches behind him and sticks his head between his legs.

"Taking this relationship to new heights, shorty," he answers with a shit-eating grin, before he stands again, slowly, carefully, and brings Jon up with him.

"Oh no, no, wait, Tormund, put me down!" Jon exclaims, but it's too late.

Tormund keeps him right up there on his shoulders, his hands firmly clamped on his boyfriend's thighs so he doesn't slip backwards and hurts himself - or strangles Tormund to death in a desperate attempt to keep his balance. There's not much of a chance for him to fall though, because Jon has frozen and now remains very still, his fingers tangled in Tormund's red hair but not tugging, for which he is grateful.

"You okay up there?" he asks him, straining his neck so he can look at his boyfriend with a smile, "Not afraid of heights, are you?"

"I might be, now," Jon murmurs, even though a grin illuminates his face as he looks at the stage, "but I'm not moving. Tell me if I get too heavy."

"Enjoy the show," Tormund snorts, "I'm not moving either."

For now, at least. Jon isn't tall and he's more on the slender side but he's got a muscular body and Tormund isn't sure he'll last until the concert is over. He doesn't think Jon would let him, anyway. What Jon eventually does, however, is relaxing enough to let go of Tormund's hair and wave his arms when the singer prompts the crowd to, and the redhead shifts from foot to foot at the same pace, his hands still warm and reassuring on Jon's legs.

Of course, what with Jon sticking out of the many faces that seem to merge together when you look at them from the stage, Marcus Mumford notices him, even with the distance that separates them. He proceeds onto winking and pointing at him while he sings the next verse, and Tormund can literally feel Jon's soul ascend and reach the Valhalla.

He's not surprised when Jon spends the entire drive back to Tormund's place in a daze and he would probably poke fun at him if he didn't know what it felt like, to have bonded with your favourite singer if only for a few seconds. He once touched the Scorpions singer's hand during a festival and he, too, looked like he would never recover.

"Should I be jealous?" he asks after a while, watching Jon from the corner of his eyes that he still tries to keep on the road, mostly.

"Yes, because I'm going to elope with him and have his babies," Jon snorts, before he leans over the gear lever to peck his boyfriend's bearded cheek. "You have nothing to fear, Tormund. I have you and the girls, that's everything I could ask for."

Tormund wasn't particularly worried but still he preens at the answer and lays his hand on Jon's thigh. The fact that he included Tasha and Elanor in his ideal life is making him emotional: he has seen his daughters being shyer than ever when they first met Jon but he's also witnessed the way they opened up to him over the past months, as well as the delight in his boyfriend's eyes whenever they do something new with him, or ask him something they would usually go to their father for. Maybe he's getting ahead of himself but if this goes on, he thinks the right time to ask Jon to move in with them will be coming sooner than he expected.

When they enter Tormund's house, all is quiet in spite of the light coming from the living-room. A few steps in that direction reveal the sight of Ygritte and Tasha, both fast asleep on the couch, which has Jon and Tormund glancing at each other in wonder, unsure whether they should wake them and send them to bed or let them sleep. With swift gestures and mouthed words, they settle for the latter, as their position doesn't look uncomfortable, and Tormund merely fetches a quilt to cover them so they won't be cold in the morning.

Upstairs, they find Elanor in Tormund's bed, her little face buried in her father's pillow. She's younger than Tasha and tires quicker, so her dad is certain that Ygritte tucked her into her own bed earlier - but his daughter is stubborn and wanted her goodnight kiss from her father, hence the sneaking into his bedroom.

With Jon's help, he gathers her into his arms and she doesn't stir until they bring her back to her room and lay her down on her bed with tenderness.

"Daddy, kiss?" she mumbles sleepily, her tiny hands reaching for her father's face and nearly poking him in the eye.

"Yes, kiss," he chuckles, bringing the sheets over her arms so she doesn't take out anyone's eye, and he makes her smile as he kisses her forehead. "Goodnight, my little treasure."

"Papa too?" she adds before they can walk out of the room.

It takes Jon a while to realise that Elanor is asking _him_ for a goodnight kiss. He gasps, looks at Tormund whose blue eyes seem strangely shiny, and then he hurries to kiss her cheek before she misunderstands his delay for unwillingness or thinks she shouldn't have called him that. _Papa_. Holy crap. He's going to cry.

"Goodnight, love," he whispers in awe to a half-asleep Elanor, before he turns to Tormund with a strange expression of elated confusion painted on his face, where shock and joy are mixing together.

They leave the room in silence so they don't wake the little girl again but as soon as they are in Tormund's bedroom and have closed the door, Jon faces his boyfriend, his eyes wide.

"She called me papa," he breathes out, still surprised, and saying it aloud suddenly makes him even more emotional.

He's never thought... never dared to imagine Tormund's girls might consider him like this one day but there she is, five years old and shifting Jon's world onto a completely new axis, one that revolves around her, her sister, and their father whom he loves with his whole heart.

"Aye, she called you papa," Tormund repeats softly, before his lips split in a smile. "She actually did, Jon!"

"So that's alright with you?" he asks in relief. "I wasn't sure... I mean, I didn't want to assume..."

"Jon," Tormund interrupts him before the younger man can utter more nonsense, "I wouldn't have introduced you to my daughters and have you spend time with them if you didn't mean everything to me - or if I didn't want you to play an important part in their life."

It takes Jon a grand total of two seconds to slip into Tormund's arms; he rests his head against his chest, listens to that beating heart that is so big and gentle, underneath the redhead's tough exterior, and Tormund pulls Jon closer.

"I love you so much, all three of you," he whispers against his mouth.

Really, what is Jon supposed to do, other than engrave each and every word of love he knows directly onto Tormund's lips?

  


  


They both thought it would take Tasha quite a lot more time than her little sister to see Jon as part of the family as well. She has known her mother a few years longer than Elanor has and Jon would understand that she was scared to let him take the place her mum had occupied in her heart. He doesn't want to replace her... but perhaps he can share a tiny corner of Tasha's heart with the memory of her mother?

In the end, Tormund and he shouldn't have worried: a few days later, they're seated at the kitchen table, all four of them, for what has become Jon's-coming-for-dinner-and-to-spend-the-night Friday, when Elanor pushes her green beans to the side of her plate.

"Daddy, I don't want them," she groans.

"Eat your vegetables, sweetheart," Tormund answers while pouring water into Tasha's glass, to which his younger daughter just pouts, before trying a different approach.

"Papa, you love beans!" she exclaims, "Do you want mine?"

Jon doesn't have time to answer, because Tasha abruptly chokes on her water - and then there's a flurry of movement and noise as Tormund grabs a kitchen cloth, Tasha coughs and Jon salvages her plate while Elanor giggles.

"Papa?" Tasha eventually utters, her face red and her eyes watery, though Jon reassures himself thinking it must be the coughing fit and not the shock of hearing Elanor call him that way.

"Uh... Yes," he answers softly, glancing at his boyfriend, "but you don't have to call me like that if you don't want to."

"I do!" she exclaims at once, surprising him and her father both, "I wanted to before but I didn't know if I could... You're daddy's boyfriend and if daddy is our daddy then that makes you our papa!"

She comes for a hug then, and it doesn't matter that her t-shirt is wet against his skin. She's quickly followed by her little sister and then, of course, Tormund wraps his arms around them all. There's a moment of quiet, only broken by a sudden sniffle.

"Are you crying?" the redhead asks.

"No," Jon answers, his voice muffled by Tasha's hair but not enough to hide a hint of stubbornness.

"Good," Tormund adds on the same tone, "me neither."

"Your eyes are red, daddy," Elanor points out innocently.

"Trick of the light, sweetheart."

Jon chuckles and hugs his girls a bit tighter with one arm, his free hand reaching out for Tormund's while he closes his eyes to revel into the feeling of loving and being loved so wholeheartedly, and Tormund smiles. There it is again, the feeling that the outside world doesn't matter, but this time it's not just Jon and him, or the girls and him: it's the four of them together, united, as a family.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, all feedback is appreciated and makes me really, really happy. Until next time!


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